1.Lack of physical stability; unsteadiness.
2.The quality or condition of being erratic or undependable: emotional instability; political instability.
This is me. I'm unsteady, erratic, undependable... I'm suffering these huge emotional swings-finding myself sobbing one moment only to be screaming and destroying things in rage the next. Of course also is the eerie calm of numbnes...where the surface is as placid as ice, but underneath a tormenting, rushing current swirls and bubbles... A moment ago I screamed out in rage and frustration-over something stupid, trivial and asinine. It just enraged me that I should have to instruct people over and over and over on their stupidity that I simply had to explode. Mindless, seething rage poured out blindly through my words and I berated and tore apart a person for a simple and shallow reason. Now, not three minutes later, I cringe. Writing these words as if they are a penance; a retribution for myself and the angry and scared beast within me. I feel like a two-headed monster-a small and fragile child-made of the lightest and most delicate spun glass...a strong breeze would crush it to dust as it quivers from the vibrations of those around her. The other, a raging, powerful, and evil beast-a creature born of hurt, pain, and destruction. An animal that seeks nothing short of revenge for every tear shed, every hurt word, every cruel action. I am the embodiment of rightousness-the vengeance of those without name or face, the justice so desperately needed in this hell of "modern life."
I don't know who or what I am. Taking these daily hurts and fears-feeling them swell and grow with not only each passing day, but with the thoughts of all the painful days already past. The memories of my pathetic childhood I still wish I had not survived, the years of torment and weakness-having no choice over the hurt that I received, having to just sit and take the hits, the words, the rage, the pain...shriveling; dying; curling up inside and breaking away into fragmented shadows. It seems this cycle for which I am forever bound...small, teasing images of joy and comfort only to be swallowed up by pain, suffering, and heartache. I can't continue being everyone's toy-everyone's victim...taking only what is given and suffering through this loss and pain over and over and over again.
It's not to say that he touches me-he would not lay a hand on me (unlike the waste of flesh that is my biological father)...but, words still cut to the bone. Beating you up emotionally. This not knowing; this helpless waiting; this future I can not account for or determine. I am so desperately alone. The one thing in the world I never wanted to be but had resigned myself to...alone...and now, almost three years later of the day I realized never would I have to be alone again; never would I have to have the fear and worry of who would take care of me (for it is my ultimate weakness that I can save the world, but never, never, myself); never to be scared or helpless, or oh so very small....he tells me tonight we must talk. We must talk of finality. Of determining once and for all what is happening. He says it like there's doubt. Like there's a chance that I won't be alone and helpless. He says it like I won't be without a job, a place to live, a LOVE, a safety. He says it like it's deciding dinner-chicken or beef? He says it like there's a desire for me to conclude this; like I want this to happen. He says it like I have a choice, a vote, a say... And then he holds me, kisses me softly on the cheek as I cry once again...
And I cry....and cry...and cry......
I can't do this. I can't do this. Any of it. I have no motivation or desire for myself. These mundane acts needed for survival-working, shopping, cooking, cleaning-none of them I can do for myself. I have always done them for US. And now, tonight...no more us...already he jokes about who gets the DVD player and the big tv...telling me he wants to be "fair" and work through this together.... oh yes, the statement of the century...let's work through our breakup together Maybe I don't WANT to work through it to end it. Maybe I had my life all planned out in these gleaming moments of happiness. Maybe I had things left to do, places yet to go and people yet to be with each other. Maybe I've worked and planned these last few years based on the continuation of this "us" this love; this life ogether...maybe I daydreamed our life together, our love, our home, and our joy...maybe I want all that still....but, it doesn't matter. It's not what I want. It's not up tome and it's beyond my control. I even have a little picture of us together here on my monitor. When I pause in my frantic typing I look up at it and see it. Us smiling, happy, together. He's so cute and I look so happy. His cousin's wedding. How ironic. Him in a tie-he looks so good dressed up-and me in a dress (a rarity if ever there was one) and just us together. Together...
He asks me in sobbing moments if I'll always be his best friend...and I would...I'd be anything he wanted me to be, but I need to be his love He tells me that he could never believe he found this "beautiful" (his words, never mine) woman who didn't care who or what he was, but loved him all the same. And I did. I still do. I don't think of he and I, I think of us. I think of OUR life, OUR home, OUR future. How can I lose all that? How can I just let it go? How can I pretend the world's not exploding around me in pain and terror? What do I do? What do I do?
~ flowers bloom near Memory and Dream
at 4/12/2001 01:46:48 PM ~
~
